


Monday, Tuesday, Everyday

by Big_Boss



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Big_Boss/pseuds/Big_Boss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto works part-time in a coffee shop near the university. On Mondays, an art student comes by for a quick cup. And on Tuesdays, he stays all day. [Entry for the MakoHaru Festival]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday, Tuesday, Everyday

**Author's Note:**

> Challenge: "Watching"  
> written for the MakoHaru Festival~  
> 

The dainty coffee shop located on the corner of the Fine Arts and Architecture building might be the most charming structure in the campus. A lovely rambling of wood and stucco. Palettes of coffee and chocolate wooden paneling was clear against the autumn’s cold gaze. And inside the coffee shop was also the most charming young man.

It was a little after eight when Makoto prepared himself for work. The tiny bells above the entrance rang as he came in, letting out a delightful morning greeting to the owner before putting on an olive green apron. The first morning wave would consist of students, most likely sleepless ones, fighting almost desperately for their daily fix of caffeine to at least give them the energy to go through the day’s lectures.

Somehow, the coffee served by him was fifty-percent better. Because there was nothing more complementary to coffee than a warm smile. Makoto, compared to others, genuinely liked serving customers. He liked smiling at them and taking their orders, knowing it would help them in some way.

Makoto also liked watching customers, admiring their habits and expressions. His first customer for that day was a blue-haired, bespectacled Medicine student. Just like any other day, the young man ordered a caffé macchiato. He barely ordered anything else, except when it was an exam week, at which point, the med student would rather get a double espresso, taking a sip after every chapter he had finished reading. He also noticed that a blond boy sat next to him sometimes, as if purposely trying to bother him. Makoto learned the friend was a History major. He rarely ordered, but if he did, he would order a strawberry Frappuccino.

But among the ocean of students that flocked the coffee shop—either for coffee or him, Makoto liked watching a certain art student the most. He was different, because instead of coffee to invigorate what little energy was left from that all-nighter or plate-making, he ordered hot chocolate.

It was also Monday. So Makoto knew that art student would leave after finishing his cup. He knew this because he watched him all the time. There were days he would come in with oil paint on his clothes, often times on his face. He only went to the coffee shop on Mondays and Tuesdays, so Makoto figured he had the most breaks during those times. He couldn’t help but wonder what he would be like outside that coffee shop. How good was he in painting? Maybe he preferred sculpting instead? He didn’t even have an idea what his name was. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to find out anything if he didn’t strike up a conversation or something similar.

And so when Tuesday came, Makoto still didn’t get to know his name.

The art student came in that day a little more beautifully than yesterday, causing Makoto to bail out the last minute. The young man carried himself with such poise, approaching the counter as Makoto gulped nervously.

Makoto thought it was cute how he would look at the menu boards behind him even though he ordered the same thing every time he visited. Smiling with that in mind, he greeted happily, “Good morning.”

The art student blinked for a while before answering shyly, “Morning.” Makoto noticed his eyes averted when he tried to look at them. “I’ll be having…”

“Hot chocolate?”

The boy finally looked at him, a tad bit surprised, and Makoto got a good look of his blue eyes. “…Um, no, I’ll have caffé mocha.”

Makoto blushed. Well that was embarrassing. He thought he lost his voice for a while. He stuttered miserably like the miserable man he was, “S-Sorry, I thought, since you order hot chocolate every time, I—never mind… anyway, yeah, one caffé latte.”

“…Caffé mo—”

“ _Mocha_. Yeah, sorry, I knew that.” Makoto sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he laughed nervously. A quarter of his gallons of embarrassment disappeared when he noticed the art student smiled the most inconspicuous of smiles. It was even barely there, but Makoto saw it. After paying, he looked for a table, and Makoto couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Surely, he must have known Makoto by now, especially after that pathetic display. It wasn’t the image he wanted to instill but it was a fairly good start. He had been going to the same coffee shop for the last few months. Makoto was worried. Maybe his face was too forgettable? He had been watching him for weeks, observing his every move from behind the counters. Right now, the art student sat on his favorite spot, a table paired with an upholstered chair right next to the glass panels.

Makoto thought it was a picturesque scene. Him, sitting and waiting for his cup of coffee, legs crossed, chin resting on one palm, with the falling leaves of golden maidenhair trees as his backdrop. A delicately sculptured face, fair and passive, dark thin eyebrows, carbon-black hair and oceanic blue eyes. He seemed like a deity straight out of a folklore.

Makoto approached him, hot caffé mocha ready.

Trying to stop himself from apologizing as he gave the cup, Makoto said, “You don’t usually change your order.” The man sitting looked up, his eyes lighting up as he did so. He then looked down again. Makoto smiled at him, “Stayed up all night?”

“Un,” he mumbled, bobbing his head. He had this look that Makoto was absolutely right. For such a mysterious person, he was easy to read. Makoto was about to walk away when the art student said hesitantly, “T-Thank you.”

Makoto felt something fluttering in his stomach. “You’re welcome.”

The next day, Makoto knew there was something off. The art student only came on the first two days of the week, but there he was, sitting on the same spot. It was Wednesday. He never went to the coffee shop on Wednesdays.

It was once Makoto was holding a caffé mocha that he thought he was being too obvious.

“I haven’t even ordered yet,” the art student said, surprised eyes eyeing the cup of moccacino, then afterwards eyeing the man who gave it to him ahead of time.

“I just have the feeling you’d order this again.” Makoto prayed to all the gods that the young man wasn’t supposed to order hot chocolate that day. He sounded almost desperate, “I’m right this time, yeah? Please tell me I’m right.”

“You are,” the young man with the lovely dark tresses replied. He repeated his words, this time in amazement. “You’re completely right.”

Sighing a thousand of his worries away, Makoto smiled in relief, placing a hand where his heart was. “Oh, thank god.” He saved himself from embarrassment. That was an achievement.

“How did you know?”

“You’re studying for exams. You’ve been staying up all night.” Makoto had noticed him bringing a bunch of books lately, so he hoped his assumptions were correct. And since the art student had this lovely fair skin, even the slightest bags were noticeable under his eyes.

“I don’t usually cram for exams,” he said, brushing his palms against the cup to spare himself from the chilly air. “But it’s been a bad week.”

Makoto watched as he kissed the edges of the cup with his boyish lips. He had to manually stop himself from looking. It was his chance to talk to him, to get to know him, to _ask for his name_ because god knows how long he’d been wanting to ask.

“I’m Makoto, by the way,” he finally had the guts to say. He just wished the other would be willing to share the same sentiment. “I hate it. It’s a really girly name, isn’t it?”

“Haruka.”

“What?”

“My name’s Haruka,” he said again before taking a careful sip. “I have it worse than you.”

Makoto stared at him, blinking. _Haruka._ He knew his name at last. And it was such a feminine name, too. He couldn’t help but smile at the coincidence. “I shouldn’t complain, then.”

It was then Makoto was called back to the counter by the manager. He was reluctant to go back. He wanted to talk to Haruka more. He wanted to know him more. Since it was a Wednesday, Makoto had no idea how long Haruka would be staying. He figured he would leave as soon as he was finished, but an hour after his first cup, Haruka sat still, back reclined and a sketchpad in hand. The morning rush didn’t stop until the forenoon, so all Makoto could do was watch—how Haruka would sometimes slump from his relatively straight posture, how his eyes would narrow and blink, depending on what he was drawing. He blinked frequently, like he was trying to visualize something. Makoto liked how his eyelashes would flutter with every blink.

Just as the customers began to decrease, Makoto realized that Haruka was already gone. It was highly unlikely for him to come again tomorrow, finals week and all. But Thursday came too soon, and Haruka was there again. Makoto couldn’t be any happier.

Haruka looked a lot better than yesterday, Makoto thought as the young man walked in sporting a navy cargo jacket. He probably had a good night sleep this time.

“Good morning, Haruka,” Makoto said happily with his trademark smile.

“Let me guess, hot chocolate?” Makoto said in advance.

Haruka smiled. Well, _almost_ smiled. His face, as fine-featured it may be, would always wear this passive expression, making it easier for Makoto to suspect the slightest twitch of his lips.

“Hot chocolate,” Haruka confirmed. The one behind the counter just smiled.

It had been easier for Makoto to strike conversations every now and then. The nervousness was gone and somehow he didn’t feel too anxious talking to him. He found out that Haruka wasn’t much of a talker, but despite this fact he seemed completely fine talking to Makoto. And this was such an accomplishment for him. All he could ever manage during the past few weeks was to watch Haruka.

Friday was the day when Haruka ordered caffé mocha again. Makoto had predicted it, seeing the impressed face of Haruka when he guessed right again. It was raining that day, so Haruka came in half soaked.

“You don’t order anything other than hot chocolate and caffé mocha, huh?”

“I hate coffee,” Haruka said as he was scrambling through his pockets for cash while he held a dripping umbrella on one hand. “But I need something to keep me awake.”

Makoto laughed softly. “And so you choose the only coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee.”

Haruka nodded then went off to his seat.

They talked a lot again. It was a little harder for Makoto to escape from his cashier duties since a lot of students were taking refuge in the coffee shop. So, he just watched Haruka. His sketchpad was out again, drawing the landscape he could see behind the glass panels. Makoto couldn’t figure out how Haruka would draw the rainy scene, since the once golden setting transformed into a gloomy light gray. It had stopped raining for some time now, but it was still pretty misty outside.

It was near noon when Haruka stood up from his seat. And Makoto realized that he had forgotten his umbrella under the table. So he did what people would normally do. He ran after him.

The November chill pierced Makoto’s skin, forgetting to put on a jacket himself. Haruka wasn’t too far ahead, so when he called out his name, the said man stopped immediately.

“Makoto?” he asked in surprise, blue eyes widening.

Panting and his hands on his knees, exhaling visible breaths. “You forgot… your umbrella…” he said in between gasps.

“…Thank you.” Haruka stared at him earnestly, taking the transparent umbrella from Makoto’s hands. “But I could’ve gone back tomorrow to get it, you know.”

The other just chuckled. “I don’t think I could wait that long.” Makoto figured Haruka wouldn’t know what to say, so he just took Haruka’s right hand before he could walk away. It took about a moment for Makoto to realize what he had done.

“Your hands are cold,” was all Haruka could come up with. Makoto saw his face reddening, unsure whether it was the cold or his touch.

“Yeah,” He said, still not letting go. Haruka had such delicate fingers, he thought. Hoping the flush of awkwardness was covered by the mist, Makoto swallowed before saying, “Will you come by tomorrow?”

Haruka turned his head to the side in what seemed like embarrassment. “M-Maybe.”

Saturdays were the most quiet. Most students didn’t have classes so morning rush was non-existent. Makoto worried for a while that he had somehow forced Haruka to come by the shop. He didn’t know whether he had classes that day. The bell above the entrance snapped him out of his woes. It was Haruka.

“Good morning, Haru.”

Makoto was waiting for a greeting from Haruka, but the young man just stared at him with wide eyes.

“You called me Haru.”

“Did I? Sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“It’s fine. I like it.”

Makoto sighed. He was worrying too much.

“Caffé mocha?”

“Caffé mocha.”

They talked by the counter, since there were no queues and no new customers. Makoto discovered Haruka did have classes during Saturdays, which really released a lot of his guilt. He also found out Haruka needed to leave an hour later because he had a lecture. Haruka sat down when he was getting tired of standing. Makoto approached his table, delivering his hot drink.

“Uhh…” Makoto mumbled after bringing Haruka’s coffee.

Haruka raised his brows, tilting his head. “Something wrong?”

“N-No,” Makoto stammered, hands rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’ll… just be over there if you need me.”

Haruka replied flatly, “Okay.”

He wanted to ask him out. He wanted to see Haruka every day, and talk to him not just inside the coffee shop. He wondered what Haruka would be like outside that small coffee shop. Makoto hid behind the counters, thinking of what he should do next. Confidence wasn’t exactly his forte. He hadn’t noticed a lot of time had passed by. What surprised him was the fact that Haruka bothered to come up to him to bid goodbye.

“I’ll be leaving now,” Haruka said with his soft-spoken voice.

Makoto looked straight ahead to see Haruka’s face. And he was pretty much kicking himself because he wanted to wipe away the foam that lingered on Haruka’s upper mouth.

“You have some…” Normally, people would just point it out, but what Makoto did next wasn’t normal at all.

He slid a hand under Haruka’s chin, leaned toward him and kissed his upper lip, taking the foam with him. He felt Haruka stiffen. When he pulled away, he was met with the widest blue eyes he had ever seen, glistening in disbelief.

Makoto managed not to blush much. “See you tomorrow.” He smiled.

The surprised young man stood frozen in place. He turned his head away in embarrassment and reddened. “Y-Yeah…”

“W-Wait!” Just as Haruka was about to turn around, Makoto grabbed him by the hand, the mahogany counter the only thing hindering them from coming too close.

“…What?” Haruka asked timidly, avoiding eye contact.

“Will you… be here tomorrow?” Makoto asked. He wished Haruka wouldn’t just come by on Mondays and Tuesdays. He was afraid it was just an exceptional week where he came every day.

Haruka smiled at him for the first time.

“I’ll be here every day.”

**Author's Note:**

> Coffee shop AU! I really want to expound on this AU but I'm exhausted as hell.  
> For the MakoHaru Festival!  
> Heavily inspired by [Coffee Shop by B.A.P](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6VzuX88Dc_g)  
> 


End file.
